Chapter Eight

"It's like a migraine but it's not a migraine?" Bartlet clarified. Josh had been explaining Sam's headaches to The President for a while and Bartlet's questions were beginning to give him one.

"It's like a migraine only more so."

"So he has some pills to take, lies down for a while and then he's alright?"

CJ sat forward and tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. "Well, not exactly. They really knock him for six. They're not like…they're a lot worse than migraines."

"Okay, so what can we do? What are the signs that he's having one of these things?"

CJ hadn't moved back so Josh sat forward and peered past her at the President. "He gets this look on his face like the world's about to end."

"That's a pretty standard look for senior staffers, Josh. Can you be more specific?" Bartlet asked.

Josh wiped a hand over his face and glanced at Leo who had sat in silence throughout the conversation. "He gets this look…he looks at you like…" Josh sat back and sighed. "You'll never see a better example of the expression 'naked fear' than when you look at Sam when an attack is starting."

Bartlet sat back. "Okay" he said again but this time more quietly. "So, what do we do?"

"I think we keep this as quiet as possible but at the same time we need to let people know so if Sam has an attack they're going to know what to do," CJ offered.

"Sam won't like that," Josh objected. "There's no need for anyone to know. He's got his meds and he's aware enough to get the hell out of wherever he is when an attack starts."

"Can he do his job?" Leo's question silenced everyone.

Toby, who hadn't said a word so far, answered it. "I'm sitting here trying to work out ways to make sure he can. You think there's someone out there who could compete even with a debilitated Sam?"

Leo shook his head and glanced at Bartlet, a small smile crossed both men's faces as Toby continued. "I think we make sure that wherever Sam is, someone is with him who knows how to handle what might happen. He's never far from one of us so that shouldn't be a problem."

"And if he goes to the Hill and it happens there again?" Josh asked.

"We make sure he doesn't go."

"Toby, we can't just-"

"Yes we can. Sam told me that these things come in bouts and when this bout is over he may not have another for months, even years. There are drugs that can control Clusters so it's just a case of making things as easy as possible until Sam finds the right drugs."

"Josh?" Bartlet asked realising that he didn't seem happy with Toby's plan.

"No, that's fine, Toby's right."

Bartlet nodded and stood up. "Keep me up to date with this."

A chorus of 'yes sirs' filled the room as the staff filed out. Toby hurried ahead of them and had made it to his office before Josh appeared closing the door firmly behind him. "It's just a case of making things as easy as possible until Sam finds the right drugs!" Josh repeated Toby's words incredulously.

"Yes," Toby answered without looking up from his desk.

"He's afraid to wake up!"

Josh's words made Toby put down the file he was pretending to read.

"He's afraid to go to sleep in case an attack wakes him, he's afraid to go to work in case he ends up screaming and head banging in front of the President, he's afraid to go out by himself in case he has an attack and gets carted off to the psyche ward and he's afraid to wake up because every morning brings another day of fear. So you can tell the President that everything's going to be okay once Sam has the right meds but don't expect me to agree with you." Josh had stood with his hands on his hips in front of Toby's desk but he let them drop to his sides as he dropped equally dejectedly onto the sofa. "Jesus, Toby, he smashed a glass on his head, he sat there and grabbed a glass and-"

"Wait a minute, when was this? You said he cut his head by accident. What's been going on, Josh?"

Josh looked up at Toby and realised he had said too much. He also realised there was no going back. "The other night, after he'd been to see Doctor Hollis, I went to Sam's and stayed. He had about three attacks, each one worse than before and he…I wouldn't let him have anymore pills and he just…" Josh shrugged, "he just grabbed this glass and smashed it into his head."

Toby stood up and wandered around behind his desk before sitting again. "And you didn't think I needed to know that?"

"No, I didn't. You've read the same stuff as me, heard the same things from the doc, you know how bad Clusters can get."

"Yes, and I've just sat in the Oval and told the President that we can deal with it and now you're telling me Sam's taken to trying to cut his head open."

Josh walked over to the desk and leaned over it. "Well excuse me, but I wasn't thinking about what to tell the President when I was washing Sam's blood off the kitchen tiles and I wasn't thinking about what to tell you."

"Well, maybe you should have been because I can't help him if I don't know what's going on and I can't stand by him if you're not being straight with me."

Josh slumped forward and sighed deeply. "I threw up."

"What?"

"When Sam was having his attack, I threw up. I don't know how he gets through them." Josh walked back to the sofa. "He showed me this thing, KAP…KOP…KIP that was it, KIP. It's a scale of pain for attacks. He wasn't even at the top of the scale. You know, people actually kill themselves during attacks that are at the top of the KIP scale!"

"KIP?" Toby repeated, sceptically.

"Yeah, I know," Josh smiled remembering Sam's interrupted explanation of the scale. His smile disappeared as images of Sam writhing in agony filled his mind. "What if-"

"He won't!" Toby said, his words brooking no argument.

"Where is Sam, anyway?" Josh asked, walking to the adjoining window.

"I sent him home. He looked half dead."

Josh turned away from the window and stared at Toby. The two locked eyes for a moment and then both reached for a phone. Toby picked up the phone on his desk as Josh pulled his cell from his pocket. Neither Sam's home nor cell phones were answered and again a look flashed between the two men.

Toby returned to the file on his desk and Josh stuck his hands in his pockets and walked over to the window. "He's probably asleep," Josh said more to himself than Toby.

"Yeah."

"Probably sleeping," Josh reiterated, still staring at Sam's empty desk.

"Yeah."

Toby returned to his reading and Josh returned to staring through the window.

"But if he is sleeping, he usually leaves a message on his answer phone to say that so we know that he's sleeping and not…whatever, and then we can leave a message or shout or something so maybe he's not sleeping, maybe he's in the shower or something."

"Or on his way in," Toby suggested.

"Or on his way in," Josh agreed.

Toby looked down again at the paper in his hand but his other hand was tapping a pencil against the desk. Josh stuck his hands in his pockets and walked over to the sofa, sitting for a moment before returning to the window and its view of Sam's empty office. By the time he had made up his mind to go over to Sam's, Toby was already standing and putting on his coat. "We go, we check, and if you've got me worked up over nothing with your KIP paranoia, then we come back and you highlight and rephrase all references to the Global Economic Resource Centre in this paper."

"Okay," Josh agreed as he followed Toby out of the room. "You know, for someone who's reacting to someone else's paranoia, you're setting quite a pace."

They drove to Sam's in silence both afraid to tempt fate through voicing their concerns.

"This is pretty stupid," Josh said as he led the way to Sam's apartment. "He's going to be asleep and we're going to look…"

"Stupid," Toby said.

Sam didn't answer the door buzzer. Josh knocked and tried the buzzer again but there was no reply. With a look at Toby that suggested maybe they weren't as stupid as they thought, Josh reached into his pocket and pulled out a key. He opened the door and immediately realised that their stupidity was no longer an issue; broken glass covered the living room floor, Sam's CD collection had been knocked over and discs and cases were lying amongst the glass. The sound of a door being opened filled the room but it was the sudden gust of cold air on Josh's face that made him start. He mumbled a curse, pushed past Toby and hurried towards the spare room. The sight that greeted him made him stop in his tracks. Toby came barrelling into him.

The curtain that hung at the side of the balcony door was billowing in and out. Josh stared at it for what seemed like an eternity but in reality was only a matter of seconds, certainly no longer than it took for Toby to regain his balance, shout Sam's name and push past Josh. The shout spurred Josh back into action and he ran towards the balcony and the sight of his friend climbing the railing that surrounded it.

Sam was oblivious to the sound of his name being called and the sudden presence of his two friends. He was oblivious to everything but the need to climb over the balcony railings and find an end to the pain that was ripping at his head, gorging out his eye and consuming him.

He had nearly made it as well. He had managed to get one leg over the rail and only needed to raise the other and let go and it would stop. He felt a tug pulling him back. At first a tenuous hold, grappling at his belt but then a stronger force, a strong grip that pulled his waist backwards against the rail, a tight hold on his arm, a hand clutching firmly at his leg then a strong arm around his waist pulling him away from his escape, away from the means he had found to make the pain stop. He fought it, tried to pull away, but the hands where strong and determined and lifted him almost effortlessly up, over and away from the railing. He shouted at the hands, cursed them, tried to prise them off but they continued to pull, to drag him backwards until the cold night air was replaced with warmth.

He was lying down but the hands were still there. One arm wrapped around his waist, another, higher, covering his chest. Beneath him was a softness that moved up and down, accompanied by short, shaky gasps for air. Like the hands, the pain had not let go and Sam believed it was the pain he could hear gasping for air, shaken by the attempt to end it but determined only to worsen in retribution. Sam cried out a desperate howl of despair at the hands that refused to loosen and the pain that tightened its grip. The hands that had held him tightened at the sound of it and moved down to clutch at his hand. The movement beneath him slowed and the gasps quietened. Simultaneously, the pain began to decrease, slowly loosening its hold, creeping away, draining from Sam's head and eye. The stream of noise that had been constant since he had been dragged into the room became disjointed words that Sam grabbed at in an attempt to escape the slowly lessening pain.

"Just lie…don't fight…relax…nearly…alright…alright…over…nearly over."

The hands were kind now, their movements calm and careful, stroking his head, gently holding his hand. The words stopped dancing and began to make sense.

"Don't move…it's alright…just breathe…nice and slow…everything's alright…it's alright…we're here…we've got you…just breathe."

The arm around his waist moved to under his arm and he was lifted up and pushed sideways. He was pulled away from the vomit and propped up again against the warmth and softness that was talking to him. He knew it was talking because he could feel the vibrations from the warmth that matched the sound as they carried him even further from the remnants of pain.

"We don't need to…take him in ourselves…he's never passed out like this…it's over now…no need…I will…if I have to…"

Sam knew the voice and focused on it.

"Never like this…I don't know…it looks like it…calmer now…finished…I know what it looked like..."

Sam knew the warmth beneath him was a body. He knew the voices belonged to his friends. He let both guide him back.

"Sam, can you hear me? Open your eyes, buddy, look at me. It's over, Sam. Open your eyes."

Sam opened his eyes and slowly turned his head until he found the face that matched the voice. "Josh." Sam whispered the word and the face smiled.

"Yeah, it's me, and Toby here's. It's over now, Sam."

Sam looked around for Toby. "Where?" he whispered.

"Here, Sam. Right here," Toby answered. "If we help, do you think you can make it to the sofa?"

Sam nodded. He was frightened and his fear grew as he remembered the cause of it. Pain. Pain worse than anything he had experienced had frightened him and he had tried to end it. He was shaking. His legs were shaking but Josh and Toby were holding him. He could taste vomit.

"Need a…water, can I have some water?"

The sofa was cold. The door to the balcony was still open and the cold evening air had been blowing into the room. Sam heard the door being closed, slammed shut, and the memory of why he had opened it flooded back.

"Oh God, I…"

"It's alright, Sam. Don't worry about it." Josh said as he handed him a glass of water. The cool liquid revived him physically and mentally and he rubbed at his eyes and looked up at his friends. Toby was standing in front of him, arms folded and an expression on his face that made Sam realise that Toby was scared and for Toby to be scared it must be bad.

"Scared?" Sam mumbled.

"I know you are but it's over now."

"Not me, you."

Toby glanced at Josh and wondered if the fear showing so blatantly on Josh's face was mirrored on his. "I'd rank it up there with being shot at, yes."

Sam nodded and tried to smile at Toby's attempt to lighten the atmosphere with dark humour. His hands were shaking and he felt the sofa dip as Josh sat beside him and removed the glass from them. "We're going to take you to the ER."

"No." Sam tried to stand but a hand on his arm was enough to push him back down.

"Sam, I scoffed at KIP but, man, if that wasn't a scale ten, then I don't know what was. We're taking you to the ER."

"They'll say I'm…" Sam swallowed hard in order to quell another wave of nausea, "suicidal, they'll evaluate me and then it'll get out and I'll be finished and it won't matter what CJ says to-"

"Listen!" Josh placed his hands on Sam's shoulders and turned him towards him. "You just tried to jump off your balcony and if we hadn't have been here you'd be dead now so that sounds pretty much like an attempt at suicide to me and it will to-"

"I didn't want…I just wanted the pain to-"

"It sounds like it to me and it will to the people who were watching from below, the landlord who phoned and asked what the hell was going on and the police officer who just called to check that a Mr Samuel Seaborn was okay."

"What? When?"

"Sam, you've been out of it for about thirty minutes. Toby dragged you into the living room, you puked then passed out."

"I don't want to go, Josh. Please don't make me."

Josh cringed at the pleading tone of Sam's voice and did his best to ignore it. He knew it was useless though. Toby was phoning CJ and had left Josh to tell Sam they were taking him to the hospital. Josh knew that one more minute sat beside Sam would be his undoing and so he did all he could think to do: "Toby!"

Toby came back into the room and crouched down in front of them. "Are you listening to me?" Sam nodded. "You seem okay, like you do after your attacks, but if you think for one minute that I'm not taking you to see a doctor after what I've just experienced then you're crazy. I've already spoken to CJ. If the people who saw what happened tonight make something of it she'll make a statement. You're not suicidal, Sam. You're suffering from a known condition that has caused many others to resort to acts like yours to end the pain but you're not suicidal and that's what she'll say, that's what the doctor will say and that's what we'll say." Toby stood up and held out his hand to pull Sam up. "Do you trust me?"

"Yes."

"Come on then." For a few moments, Toby thought Sam would refuse his outstretched hand but finally he reached up and grasped it. Toby passed him his coat and they walked towards the door where Josh was waiting for them.